I admit that I am one of those gals who has been dreaming of my wedding since I was little. The dress was always a big part of the dream, I pictured myself looking like this, this or like this:
But the day Jason and I got engaged I knew that finding my dream dress wasn’t gonna be so easy. What I didn’t know was that as a pregnant, size-14 vintage-clothing-lover on a budget it would be damn near impossible.
Now, please allow me to rant for just a minute.
First off, what designer genius decided that bridal gown sizes should be two sizes larger than ‘street’ sizes, so that if you normally wear a size 14 all of the sudden you wear an 18? Yikes. Talk about makin’ a gal feel insecure.
Second of all, why doesn’t someone make a line of stretchy wedding gowns? Ever hear of silk jersey and stretch-lace, people? I think there could be a fortune to be had– I mean, look at the popularity of stretch pants and jeggings? Women like to be comfortable, yes? Yes!
Third of all, and I’m just keeping it real here, there are a lot of big ladies here in the US. In fact, when I’m out on the streets I see plenty of gals who are much, much larger than me–and a lot of us have
good GREAT taste and I’m wondering why we should be subject to a shitty selection of ugly dresses on a marginalized portion of an already mediocre wedding dress website? Can you tell I’m frustrated?
After giving up totally on finding my dream vintage Mexican wedding dress (or any vintage wedding dress for that matter) that fit me, I–even just for the experience of trying on ‘real’ gowns–went to David’s Bridal.
Gulp. Talk about depressing. They have a ‘plus size’ section and I could barely even fit into any of those dresses, that, quite frankly, were totally not ‘me’ anyway. I looked like a caramelized marshmallow in most of them, not exactly the look I’m going for.
So I got home that night as had pretty much resigned myself to getting a dress at JCrew.
God bless J Crew, they go up to size 20 (Dear BHLDN, why don’t you follow suit?) And as much as I like J Crew and have shopped there for the past 20 years, literally, I never thought that I’d have a JCrew wedding dress– and not because they’re not pretty– they are but for someone as eccentric and crazy as I am the designs are pretty sober, especially the two dresses that come in the larger sizes that have empire waists–and therefor room for my growing belly. So, I left the J Crew windows on the computer open as I continued to search for other possibilities. I decided to use the search term ‘Caftan’ and finally, at shop called Thrifted and Modern, I found a dress that I thought we be ‘the one’.
Giddy, I began to text my bridesmaids and they all agreed that it was perfect–I ordered the dress. Done and done. Or so I thought. When the dress finally arrived two weeks later (due to a comedy of errors) I put on the dress and looked like a humerus combo of a hippie judge, a crazy old lady in a shmata and a gospel singer–and while I’ve got mad respect for all three of those types of ladies, it wasn’t the look I was going for our wedding.
So my search continued until I decided that I just wasn’t going to find my dream dress, I would have to make it. So this past weekend I got out my sewing machines–admittedly they hadn’t been out in a while–and I went downtown to the fashion disctrict and bought a bunch of lace and I made a dress– and dress that looked kinda great on my size 6 mannequin.
Only when I tried it on, I looked like a pregnant, drunk, flapper–not exactly the look I was going for either. Feeling more annoyed than ever I began to trim small pieces off of the dress in attempts to make it look better, until the whole damned thing ended up in shreds. Yikes. You can laugh. It’s OK. I was laughing too thorough all of this, admittedly it’s that kind of crazy laughter that’s borderline crying–but laughter none-the-less.
So Sunday as I am recounting this whole nightmare to one of my BFF’s and she suggests that I have her mom, (who is an amazing designer and seamstress) make the dress for me–something I didn’t think that I had neither the time nor the budget for. She and I now have an appointment on Friday, so keep your fingers crossed for me and let’s hope that I don’t show up stark naked to my wedding, and that this nightmare ends with a really happy fairly-tale ending, K?